Not For The First Time
by Co-Quill-Eon
Summary: That slight redness makes Tyler want to touch Jeremy's face, but not yet because this answer to this question is very important. "You ever kiss a guy?" ::Tyler and Jeremy are a little out of it :: Part of the Touch-verse


It begins how it usually does – a text that reads 'u bring the weed, I'll bring the rest.'

Tyler rests his head against the tree trunk at his back and holds the burning smoke in his lungs while Jeremy lays on the forest floor looking up at the cloudy, gray sky.

Tyler lets the smoke billow out of his nose and takes another drag off the joint before holding it out to Jeremy to take clumsily from his fingers. They aren't too close to each other, but not too far, either- Jeremy's foot is really close to his own and Tyler wonders, not for the first time, why he's even noticing these kinds of things. He never takes mental notes of how close he and Matt's bodies are at any given moment.

_Whatever, _he thinks and puts the bottle of vodka to his lips and enjoying the warm tingling in his limbs. Doesn't even matter, he's just high. He ignores the voice that points out that he did it today in the cafeteria when Jeremy leaned across him for the salt and Tyler was _completely _sober then.

"How do you always have an unlimited supply of this stuff?" He asks Jeremy, referring to the joint that's hanging lazily between Jeremy's long fingers.

Jeremy shrugs and closes his eyes. "When you're a druggie you meet people, make connections."

Tyler looks down into Jeremy's face. His nose is so straight, _perfectly_ straight, and his eyelashes are ridiculously long, they actually brush the tops of his cheeks. His cheeks, the skin there is so clear, and _looks so soft_- "You're not a druggie, anymore," Tyler hears himself say.

"Still," Jeremy shrugs again and raises his hand to his lips to take a drag. Tyler takes it back when Jere offers and wonders if the skin on his face is as soft as the skin on his hands.

Not that it matters.

"I used to be jealous of you," Tyler says, but then remembers that he's Tyler Lockwood and, therefore, isn't jealous of anyone. "I mean, not jealous, but, you know, you just did whatever the fuck you wanted, didn't care what anyone said. You were tough about it." _Tougher than me_, he thinks but doesn't say. He has more than enough memories of Jeremy getting _right _in his face, something Tyler had to get used to- it's kind of an unspoken rule that you don't get in Tyler Lockwood's face.

Jeremy snorts, and shifts, and his leg bends at the knee so that his foot is further away from Tyler's. But that's okay, because that knee brushes Tyler's thigh now and for some reason that's the best thing. "That wasn't tough. That," he leans up to take a swig of alcohol, "_that _was me being weak. That was me not caring about what happened to my body, because why should I? We're all going to die anyway, right?" He goes quiet for a few moments, takes another drink. "Then, I realized that's not the way to do that. To live."

"And what made you decide that?" Tyler really is interested. Jeremy's change in behavior was pretty abrupt. Plus, he takes a long pull, he loves the way Jeremy's voice sounds when he's all relaxed, and the way his lips form certain letters. Like… all of them.

"I don't even know, man," he opens his eyes now and looks up at the sky. "I just woke up one day, and I don't know. I wasn't… angry anymore. I wasn't itching to hurt myself or make myself feel nothing. It was right after Vic left, or around that time, and I just-" he furrows his brow, "but it's weird because I still feel… something. Like a tugging in my gut that says 'something's not right.'" He stares up at the leaves in the tress for a while longer and Tyler barely has time to tear his eyes away from Jeremy's face when his eyes flick over to him. "Doesn't matter now, though." He holds his hand out for the joint and Tyler wonders if it's his imagination when he feels Jeremy's fingers linger. "I'm feeling better." He inhales, holds, lets it billow out." Times, times like these, right now, help me not remember, not feel that."

Tyler's afraid to look at Jeremy, _but that's stupid,_ so he _makes_ himself look and Jeremy's eyes are sliding shut again. "Besides, the hardcore stuff made me act crazy, man."

Tyler gives a little laugh. "Like how?"

A grin tugs at the corner of Jeremy's lips and Tyler's grip on the neck of the bottle flexes. "Stuff. Destroyed property, said things I'd never really say aloud. Go places I'd never go." His grin widens and takes on a mischievous quality. "Kiss people I'd never have the guts to."

Tyler swallows. "Like who?" Jere shrugs but Tyler, for some reason that keeps eluding him, _has_ to know. "What like a really hot chick?" Jere says nothing in reply and it drives Tyler a little crazy. And then he asks a question that he's sure he's only thinking about because he's been staring at Jeremy's lips this whole time. "What like a guy?"

Jeremy tries to keep the pleased little smile, but Tyler's nothing but observant when it comes to Jeremy's mouth, and he notices when it slips a little bit along with the slight flush that creeps into his cheeks. That slight redness makes Tyler want to touch Jeremy's face, but not yet because _this_ answer to _this_ question is very important. "You ever kiss a guy?"

Jeremy shrugs again, but this one means yes and Tyler doesn't feel the way he thought he would feel if he found out his male friend finds other males attractive. He doesn't feel put off, or threatened, or disgusted. He's curious and, oddly enough, and little annoyed. Why is Jeremy going around kissing people?

"What was it like?" he asks, and this answer is incredibly important too, and if Jeremy is surprised that Tyler hasn't freaked he isn't showing it.

"Nice. Like kissing a girl. But better. You don't," he takes a drag off of the dwindling joint, "you don't have to worry about hurting them. Like, alright." He sits up on one elbow and turns his body to face Tyler's. "Girls, they're smaller, and softer, and you always gotta be careful with them. But with a guy you can be as rough as you want because it's a _guy. _And the guy I was with, he was the same height as I am, so our, our," he uses his hand to gesture between his own chest and Tyler's, handing over the joint as he does. "Our chests were pressed right against each other's and there was nothing in the way. No boobs to get in the way, not that I don't like boobs, cause they're great, but you know." He turns his heavy lidded gaze to Tyler's and gives another small, crooked smile. When he speaks his voice is a little quieter, and Tyler has no idea why that makes a small shiver run up his spine. "I think I like guys a little better."

Tyler can't look away from the other boy's gaze and he needs to stop smoking because his lungs are having a little trouble doing their job. Jeremy shifts a little, and Tyler can't look away, and jumps a little when Jeremy's fingers brush his where they rest in his lap. But it's just so that he can take the joint and take the last long drag.

And apparently Tyler _can_ look away from Jeremy's eyes because he finds himself watching Jeremy's lips wrap themselves around the burning paper, and his heart speeds up a little when he sees his tongue lick briefly at his bottom lip. He flicks the trash away and leans forward to take the bottle from Tyler's hand. A bead of liquid hangs from his lips after he drinks, and Tyler has the insane urge to offer to take care of that, but Jere's tongue makes another brief appearance. When Tyler finally finds it in himself to look away, Jeremy's eyes are smiling warmly at him.

He feels his whole body flush and he looks away, clearing his throat and shuffling a bit, but not, he notices, moving an inch away from Jeremy's body. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't know," he says, gruffly.

He can feel Jeremy's gaze on his face but doesn't look back at him, choosing instead to stare at a moss covered rock that isn't nearly as interesting as Jeremy's smiling eyes, but somehow he manages to pretend it is. Finally he hears Jeremy move, and leaves crunch, and when he looks over at him Jeremy is laying on his back again, eyes closed, a little smile on his lips. "Yeah, I know," he murmurs.

Tyler wants to ask what the hell _that_ is supposed to mean, but it seems like a better idea to just lean his head back against this tree and close his eyes too.

=..=..=

A couple of weeks later, when another one of his texts gets the reply 'can't – seeing Anna tonight,' Tyler can't help but wonder, and not for the first time, if there was anything he could have done to prevent that.


End file.
